


work it out

by carryyourownbanner



Series: amino/tumblr requests [3]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 00:45:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19983253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carryyourownbanner/pseuds/carryyourownbanner
Summary: jack pays 0 attention to anything and katherine would really appreciate it if he would not forget how to be a good husband please and thank you





	work it out

**Author's Note:**

> here you go avery, you cretin

Jack knew Katherine was suffering long, infuriating days at work. She wouldn’t shut up about it, but he was honestly happy to lend a hand to squeeze furiously as she went on and on about how it was the twenty-first century and how there were still people who acted like it was the end of the nineteenth in regards to women. If she was passed up for the promotion one more time...

So he made dinner.

He got a few of her favorite pine scented candles; standard and sensible, just like her, but with that unexpected spice that jumps out at you when you least expect it- from both his wife and the candle. He knew she had to work late so he took the liberty of said extra time to set up a nice dinner for the two of them, candles and only slightly wilting lilies of the valley included. 

to kath: you off yet?

from kath: I’m sorry, I was driving. yeah, I am. I just stopped for gas

Perhaps he’s too excited to see her face light up when she gets home to notice that her message is more choppy than usual.

Jack knows Katherine is a no-nonsense sort of woman but enjoys a tailored sort of fun that suits her tastes. Jack’s learned that that means terrible puns and spontaneous trips to the library- much of it was inarticulate little things that Jack noticed made her smile and laugh but never consistently. She‘s an enigma, and he supposes he loves that- obviously, she’s his wife.

While she‘s decidedly distinct from any other woman in Jack’s eyes, there‘s one thing she shares; her mind and emotions are just as much a mystery to him as Race’s drunk ramblings of questionable accuracy about theoretical physics. In both cases, it was more than likely that he wasn’t paying enough attention, though it mattered more in the first instance. Spot could deal with his fiancé.

Jack’s aforementioned ignorance is why, when her arrival is announced by a slamming door, he looks up sharply with his brows furrowed in concern from where he was sitting on the sofa waiting for her to arrive.

“K-“

“You don’t have to text me every five minutes.”

Jack attributes this outburst to everything else she’s been telling him about. That’s not to say it doesn’t sting. “Okay, okay.”

“What’s that smell?”

“I did something for you. Because- you’ve been having such a hard time at work, ‘s all.”

She pushes the door closed by leaning against it, locking it haphazardly with the hand she’s not holding her bag with. “I smell fish. Did we even have any fish?”

“I bought some.”

“When?”

“After I got home from work.”

She gives him a look- there’s recognition and annoyance in it all at once. “This is why you kept texting me.”

Jack swallows awkwardly, but clears his throat. “Come on, you haven’t seen the best of it.“

There house has an old sort of style to it, so the dining room is concealed from Katherine’s view where she stands by the door still. Jack takes her bag and then her hand, and she follows.

“And... here we are.”

Her face... doesn’t quite light up as he’d hoped.

“Oh. This- this is, uh, nice.”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

She raises an eyebrow, lifting her hands in front of her in a defensive manner. “I told you, I’m fine. Nothing more than usual.”

“If you say so...”

“Thanks for cooking.”

It seems forced; her words and the way she sits down. It’s just stress, Jack tells himself.

“You’re welcome, love. Dare I ask... how was work?”

She looks up at him with her eyes only, and the glint within them is so dangerous he doesn’t venture further.

“Not great. Got it. I mean, you’re off tomorrow, so that’ll be good.”

She hums in assent.

“I’m sorry, Kath. None of this is ideal and we both know you deserved that promotion more than Delancey-“

She smacks her palm on the table. “Can you shut up and eat?”

That cuts.

“I’m just trying to help, Katherine.”

She closes her eyes, and huffs. “Yeah. Sorry.”

A period of silence ensues, but at least- as far as Jack can tell- she’s enjoying the salmon and relaxing a bit. Her shoulders have lost the tension, but sometimes it seems like there’s literal smoke coming out of her ears. Still, for a spell, she’s quiet, and so is he.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Alright.”

He looks up at her, and the way she averts her eyes brings him to a realization.

“It’s not just about your work, is it?”

She allows her gaze to meet his for just a second, a telling thing, and she starts to shake her head- something freezes her in place, and she seems to strain to look at him.

“I just think it’s funny how you care so much and yet can’t manage to find the time to do a dish or two while I’m working. Just because you work from home doesn’t mean you’re not at home.”

“I-“

“It’s also pretty funny how you can’t make the bed, or recycle an empty water bottle- if the cat throws up on the floor you step around it. I’m tired and I can’t work in a cluttered environment like that. You got the studio for your painting and I got the bedroom with a desk in it, remember? We share the bedroom.”

“Can we talk-“

She blows out the two candles derisively and gets up. “But thank you, again, for this Herculean effort. I’m gonna go- I don’t know, take a shower. Maybe not, actually, because I haven’t had time to clean it and because I seem to live alone it hasn’t gotten done.”

And such is how he’s left struck dumb, a pit in his stomach and her shoulders stiff again as she leaves the room.

He cleans up the kitchen. It’s in the numb, guilty way a child does something that they‘re doing only because they were yelled at, but it gets done.

After a half an hour or so of sitting timidly on the couch, he can hear the shower turn off and the succeeding sounds of the curtain being pushed aside and the bathroom door opening. He waits for her to get dressed... he doubts she’ll be in the mood for anything right about now.

He knocks on the doorframe from where he leans against the wall just outside.

“Katherine?”

“What do you want?”

He swings around to stand in the doorframe. She’s laying on the bed in her robe.

“...to apologize. I mean- where do I even begin?”

“I’m not going to figure that for you, too.”

He huffs shortly. So this wouldn’t be easy- not that he’d expected it to.

“I’m sorry I’m a dumbass.”

“That’s a good start.” She doesn’t look at him.

“And for not doing my part. But-“

“Nope, no excuses,” she cuts in. “I’m tired of them. I can’t stand them.”

He nods, with a sincere understanding. He doesn’t think he has a good one, anyway- that’s probably her point, though, come to think of it. He sits on the bed by her feet, and she doesn’t seem to mind.

“I don’t appreciate you enough. It’s easy to forget how much you do because I’m locked up in my studio.”

“Mm.”

“I’ll keep this room cleaner, I promise. It’ll be damn near spotless for you.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“I really am sorry, Katherine.”

“I know you are,” she says, looking up at him at last. “Just nice to hear you say it and mean it for once.”

Jack looks down at his lap.

“I’m sorry. I always mean it when I say ‘I love you’- sincerity isn’t my strong suit.”

“You’re sincere when you tell me you love me, though, so-?”

His breath hitches. 

“Look- I’m sorry isn’t easy to say. And that’s stupid, you’re my wife, the love of my life and I- of course I should be sorry. And I am,” he says. “I’m sorry just feels kind of shallow.”

She looks at him with a curious sort of look in her eyes. “And how would you propose going about apologizing?”

He shrugs.

“Stupid big gestures. ‘S not that I think I can impress you into forgiving me- I just think doing something for someone means a lot more than just sayin’ you’re sorry.”

“How about this one?”

“I guess that depends on how mad at me you still are.”

“Pissed, frankly. But I believe you when you say you’re sorry.”

“I’ll fix it.”

“I know.”

She sits up, stretching and rolling her shoulders. 

“I should’ve talked to you before and not’ve dropped everything into you at once,” she says. “It’s not just one thing, it’s that and work and- well, it’s a lot of stuff, Jack.”

“Yeah?”

“It’ll blow over.”

“Yeah.”

She nudges him.

“Are we good?”

Jack smiles. “Of course we are. If you’re good with being good.”

She shakes her head amusedly. “I asked, dimwit,” she says, but kisses his cheek fondly. “Just- figure your shit out and I’ll figure out mine.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

She leans against him, and he puts her arm around her, burying his nose in her damp hair.

“Was the one shower enough for you, or do you wan-“

“Jack.”

“Fine, fine.”


End file.
